themselves, than he deserted to them instantly with his whole force.  United with the Spanish cavalry, these traitorous defenders of Antwerp dashed in pursuit of those who had only been fainthearted.  Thus the burghers saw themselves attacked by many of their friends, deserted by more.  Whom were they to trust?  Nevertheless, Oberstein’s Germans were brave and faithful, resisting to the last, and dying every man in his harness.  The tide of battle flowed hither and thither, through every street and narrow lane.  It poured along the magnificent Place de Meer, where there was an obstinate contest.  In front of the famous Exchange, where in peaceful hours, five thousand merchants met daily, to arrange the commercial affairs of Christendom, there was a determined rally, a savage slaughter.  The citizens and faithful Germans, in this broader space, made a stand against their pursuers.  The tesselated marble pavement, the graceful, cloister-like arcades ran red with blood.  The ill-armed burghers faced their enemies clad in complete panoply, but they could only die for their homes.  The massacre at this point was enormous, the resistance at last overcome.

Meantime, the Spanish cavalry had cleft its way through the city.  On the side farthest removed from the:  castle; along the Horse-market, opposite the New-town, the states dragoons and the light horse of Beveren had been posted, and the flying masses of pursuers and pursued swept at last through this outer circle.  Champagny was already there.  He essayed, as his last hope, to rally the cavalry for a final stand, but the effort was fruitless.  Already seized by the panic, they had attempted to rush from the city through the gate of Eeker.  It was locked; they then turned and fled towards the Red-gate, where they were met face to face by Don Pedro Tassis, who charged upon them with his dragoons.  Retreat seemed hopeless.  A horseman in complete armor, with lance in rest, was seen to leap from the parapet of the outer wall into the moat below, whence, still on horseback, he escaped with life.  Few were so fortunate.  The confused mob of fugitives and conquerors, Spaniards, Walloons, Germans, burghers, struggling, shouting, striking, cursing, dying, swayed hither and thither like a stormy sea.  Along the spacious Horse-market, the fugitives fled toward towards the quays.  Many fell beneath the swords of the Spaniards, numbers were trodden to death by the hoofs of horses, still greater multitudes were hunted into the Scheld.  Champagny, who had thought it possible, even at the last moment, to make a stand in the Newtown, and to fortify the Palace of the Hansa, saw himself deserted.  With great daring and presence of mind, he effected his escape to the fleet of the Prince of Orange in the river.  The Marquis of Havre, of whom no deeds of valor on that eventful day have been recorded, was equally successful.  The unlucky Oberstein, attempting to leap into a boat, missed his footing, and oppressed by the weight of his armor, was drowned.